"You know what all this feels like? Fate."

- The Best of Me, coming to theaters this Friday

Chapter 5

Talia Walker

I took slow walks to the riverside, in an attempt to get longer lasting seconds and minutes. Time was passing by too fast; I couldn’t keep up with its flow. I wanted to just freeze it and replay the past days over and over.

But this was reality; everything ended eventually.

My plane was in a few hours, right at dawn. Laura had opened up to me and we somehow became closer throughout the past couple of days. I talked to her about Matthew and she did the same about Carlo. She allowed me to meet Matthew these four last nights, only because she was confident that I would never see him again.

I didn’t want to stop seeing him.

On the other hand, I had a life as well. I had a university waiting for me in the fall, a bakery to help out in and friends to get back to. Of course, my family was the main reason. I couldn’t ever get the courage to hurt them in anyway and move far away, even though the thought has crossed my mind more than once.

“Hey,” said Matt, looking up once I had arrived. His demeanor was different today, he was leaning his elbows on his legs, ruminating.

“Hi.”

It was like I had lost all the alphabet and words I had ever learned in my life. I sat next to him and stayed silent, refraining from saying anything. I didn’t want to face the idea that I had to say goodbye to him tonight just yet, maybe postponing talking about my depart would help.

Silence hung in the air like old pictures waiting to dry and clear up. I had the illusion that a few rain droplets had fallen on me or that I had shed a few tears. It was definitely a sign that I was losing my mind.

“So,” began Matthew, avoiding my eyes. He stared straight into the river, a downhearted look in his eyes.

What scared me the most was that I had never seen him this sad. Not when we watched a movie and I almost cried, not when he spoke about his parents separation; never. He always had this glint in his eyes, even when a smile was absent in his eyes. It assured me that no matter what happened, he would be okay.

“I’m leaving.”

“I know.”

I wanted to cry.

Never have I had this urge for almost a year now, except when I hit my hip on the corner of tables; I would cry of pain.

I wanted to do more than that; I wanted to hold onto him and not let go.

“I really do like you,” I said, “You make me happy.”

For the first time; he was the one to lack a response.

“I wish I could stay here for longer,” I said. “I wish—I don’t know. I wish I had more time to know you.”

I spent 13 nights with him and it permitted me to know more than I had ever known about someone; especially a boy.

“Likewise,” he said, barely audible.

“Talia? What if—I don’t know, we meet like every month once? Or Skype? Or I’ll call you? Or we can talk by emails, I don’t know! Something!” He looked like he was about to have a conniption.

I cracked a smile, “I don’t—I don’t believe in long distance relationships.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?” he exclaimed, looking at me. “We spent thirteen nights together, I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone and you actually like me back. Are you willing to let this go?”

“Matthew, it’s not like I have a choice. What do you expect, for me to pack up my stuff and move to England just to see you?”

He waved his hands in the air and opened his mouth to agree, but immediately closed it. “No. I never said that.”

“This was just a summer thing,” I reassured, not sure if I was talking to him or to myself.

“Bullshit. We both know it was more than that.”

“Stop swearing so much. You know I don’t like it when you do.”

“Well you’re leaving, aren’t you? I can swear as much as I bloody want.”

“You’re mad.”

“Hell yeah, I am.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, “I found someone I think I might love, even though it’s only been two weeks. And she’s going to leave. And I’ve been anticipating every new adventure every night because I swear to God I’ve never smiled so much around someone.”

I found someone I think I might love.

He might love me.

Me.

“Do you feel the same way?” he turned to me, challenging me with his eyes. There were tears in them.

I grabbed his chin and pulled him closer, putting my lips on his. It still felt like heaven every time I kissed him, but the fact that this was one of the last kisses we would ever share made the air heavy.

His lips moved back to mine, but he was the first to let go. “You never told me what you feel.”

I was audacious enough to tell him that I liked him. More? I couldn’t. Every time I parted my lips and tried to tell him, I just couldn’t. It was one of my biggest flaws, having difficulty to admit how I really felt. Feelings got bottled up and I had difficulty letting them go.

“Fine,” he said, standing up. “I’m leaving.”

I rushed to my feet and put my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. His beautiful hazel eyes were a shade darker than usual. A tear had escaped from them; I reached to wipe it off.

“If I meet you again, I’ll tell you.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a promise.”

I stood on the tip of my toes and put my arms around his neck, closing my eyes tightly. He clutched onto my waist, setting his head on my shoulder. I breathed in, savoring his smell: boyishness and faint cologne.

Holding onto him for a few minutes, I felt the world around me melt into a mess of nothing. Matthew kissed my cheek ten times, making me pull away just a little.

“For every night,” he said. “Eleven,” he kissed my forehead gently.

“Twelve,” he kissed me passionately, putting every emotion into it. My heart exploded with an emotion I had never truly felt: love? I wasn’t certain, but I had time to figure that out.

“I’ll give you the thirteenth kiss when I see you again,” he said, smiling.

He let go of my waist and walked away, leaving me to wonder what the hell had just happened. Despite my jumbled thoughts, the thing I was most confident about was a quote I had read somewhere.

If you love someone, let them go. If they come back to you, they’re yours to keep. If they don’t, they were never yours from the beginning.

I really did hope we would meet again.

Really, which other British boy would ever make a bet against his own team to meet with a bizarre half-Italian girl in Brazil?